


A Shot In The Dark

by TheDandyCrickette



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:14:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDandyCrickette/pseuds/TheDandyCrickette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of Mojave Express couriers find themselves stuck in Novac for the night. One is looking for some company and the other is looking for an easy mark but the night doesn't go as planned for either of them. Sex and violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Shot In The Dark

There was nowhere communal to drink in Novac. No bar, not even a diner. And no strangers to fall into bed with, either – everyone in town knew each other and no one wanted a scandal. It was a half-way point between any new assignments, a good place to keep her ear to the ground, and she liked dead and dusty towns as much as the next gal but they could at least build her a place to drink, Omen griped to herself as she popped the cap off another bottle of beer and settled back against the ankle of Novac’s giant dinosaur statue. She should’ve made the effort to get to Freeside. Or gone north to see her parents. Anything beat this stagnant pisspool of a town.

She watched the sun set on the Mojave as she downed another bottle and let the hot night wash in on a stale wave. A figure coming up the road caught her attention and she watched it grow closer until she could see the swagger in his step and the leather clothes that were far too nice to parade around the wasteland in. Omen couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she tilted her bottle back. Still, the beer told her, he was a warm body. And as he got closer she saw he wasn’t bad looking either. Lean, with a pretty mouth and a good, dark head of hair – she could work with that. He didn’t see her as he came up the path with dusk falling around him.

“Hey, pretty boy,” she called and sat up, extending an arm toward him, relieved she wasn’t slurring her words yet. He jumped and stepped back. He had his pistol halfway out of its holster before she could speak up again and she noticed that the metal was polished to a shine. “Hey, hey, I’m not gonna hurt ya’,” Omen assured him, “thought you should know that I’m the best company in town right now.”

He hesitated, replaced his gun with a short laugh. “You’re not propositioning me, are you?”

She snorted and waved her half-empty bottle at him. “’Course not. But you’re not about to turn down a drink with me, are you? The ol’ lady runnin’ the place is a terror, wish I’d been buzzed when I met her. You got a name?”

“It’s Brash.”

Omen snickered. Poor loser.

He stepped off the path to approach her and she saw his eyes flicker over her in the dying light. She couldn’t tell what the look in his eye meant, but all that mattered was that he accepted an unopened beer from her and lingered at her side to drink.

* * *

 

She wasn’t pretty. Even if he liked tits she wouldn’t be pretty. She was built like a yao guai and her hands were rough and calloused like he’d never seen. But any woman with enough booze to throw around was worth his effort. She didn’t look particularly sharp, either. She told him some tribal name and laughed when she found they both worked for the Mojave Express. Soon she invited him to spend the night with her, hooking one of her fingers into a loop on his pants and giving it a tug.

Brash laughed easily and downed the rest of his beer. He’d had enough to stick it to her long enough to get what he wanted.

“I’d love to, gal,” he said and clasped her hand to help her to her feet. She staggered and caught herself with a meaty hand on his shoulder. “Oof, gotcha. You good?”

“I’m great,” she crooned in his ear, her voice thick. “Come on, I’ll show you up.”

He shouldered the weight of her and squeezed her ass as they climbed the stairs. “Say, how do you feel about ropes, huh?”

She grinned at him, showing off her chipped and crooked teeth. “Pretty good, actually.” She waited for him to smile before adding, “But never with strangers.” His smile deepened to hide his disappointment, but she backed him up against the railing anyway and tangled her fingers in his hair. “That’s not a problem, is it?”

“No problem at all,” he said and leaned forward and kissed her, scraping his teeth over her bottom lip when he pulled away. She followed his mouth for another kiss, her breath catching in her throat.

* * *

 

Omen slapped at the wall in search of a light switch when they finally stumbled into the right room. His arms were around her, snaking under her clothes. The door latched at her back when he shoved her against it so he could kiss her throat and she heard him turn the lock. He pulled away when she finally found the switch and the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling flickered to life.

She pressed a palm to his chest, tugging the collar of his shirt open. “Put your things on the couch.”

He smiled and shrugged off the knapsack he carried, tossed it carelessly onto the couch by the window. A double bed filled the center of the musky room and Omen’s sledgehammer, the head chipped and battered as her own body, lazed against the nightstand. She put her glasses there and turned to watch the city slicker peel off his leather jacket in the dusty light and unbutton his shirt. He had a nice body, she thought as she discarded her oversized shirt and grabbed at his belt, he would be good for her. Finding a willing man could be so hard at times.

Brash swiped at the light switch when she pulled his belt from his belt loops and plunged them back into murky half-light. Crushing his mouth to hers again, he pushed her toward the bed and pulled his pants off and dropped them on the mattress beside them. Omen wasted no time groping between his legs to give him a squeeze and a tug. He was soft, but as soon as she grabbed him he pushed her onto her back and set his lips against her throat, drawing a short gasp from her by sucking on the skin below her jaw. She tightened her hand around him and reached along his back with her other hand under his shirt, pawing at the clean skin as his tongue and teeth wandered along the line of her neck.

His hands gripped her hips tightly and felt dead as stone. When he would not move them, she groaned and grabbed one, moved it to her breast. “You a virgin or somethin’?” she asked and pulled on his ear with her teeth, pressing herself up to feel him shiver.

“No,” he grunted.

Omen gave his growing cock a hard squeeze and he bit into her shoulder with a groan. “Then quit actin’ like it.” He answered her by squeezing her tit and shoving her pants off her hips with his other hand. The more aggressive she got with him, peppering his shoulders with bite marks and digging her nails into his back, the more he pushed back until every drop of blood in her was hot and roaring through her veins.

He paused shortly to dig through his pants’ pockets, though she didn’t stop clinging to him as he did so, and came up with a square of foil emblazoned with the words “Jimmy Hats.” Omen bared her teeth at him, a lopsided attempt at a grin, and fumbled to help him get the rubber on.

She yanked on his hair and moaned as he pushed her into the mattress and entered her. He slipped out of her grip when he pushed himself up as he moved in her, with one hand braced against the mattress to support him, leaving her clutching a few stray strands of dark hair in her clenched fists. His other hand reached between them to help her along. She clutched at his shirt frantically, panting and trying to pull him close for kisses he only just returned before pulling away. But even as she clung to him, she could feel her body letting go.

Brash’s weight shifted and Omen felt cold metal press against the underside of her chin accompanied by a mechanical click. She inhaled shakily and gaped up at the shape of him.

It was a gun, she realized through the cloud of their stalled heat. A goddamn gun.

“The hell are you doing?” she demanded, sobering suddenly, “You get your jollies killin’ chicks?”

The city boy snorted and pulled out and she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her mouth. Her body trembled and she felt her limbs wanting to curl in on themselves and a need to finish what was started, but she remained frozen. Frozen, except for one arm dangling off the edge of the bed and fingers that brushed the stone head of her sledgehammer. “Girls don’t do a thing for me at all,” he sneered, “even burly cattle like you. But it was the best way to get at your things quietly. Now turn over and put your hands on your back.”

“Are you _robbing me?_ ” Omen hissed.

He pressed the nose of the gun against her chin more insistently. “Do what I say and that’s all I’ll be doing to you.”

“Oh, I don’t think so!” Omen snarled and shoved his gun away from her. Before he could reposition, she swung her sledgehammer into his face and threw him off of her. He tumbled to the edge of the mattress and yelped when she swung at him again, toppling to the floor to avoid being hit again. Omen hopped off the foot of the bed, standing right between him and the door with her pants slung around her ankles, and brought the hammer down on his back. He screamed and scrambled toward the bathroom to escape her furious swinging.

She chased him, roaring threats and tripping on her own pants. He slammed the bathroom door behind him and she crashed shoulder-first into it.

“Calm _down,_ lady!” he squealed from inside. “I’ll leave! I’ll just leave!”

Omen leaned against the door and pulled her pants back up, her breath heaving. “I’m gonna break your pretty little jaw!” she shouted back at him. “You won’t be so pretty then!”

“You can have all my caps! We’ll work something out, alright? No need to rampage.”

Omen ignored him and jiggled the doorknob. Locked. She wrenched it until the lock broke and opened the door a crack, ducking low. She glimpsed the gun through the opening and pulled the door shut just as the gunshot when off and splinters exploded off the flimsy door and rained down on her. She threw the door open then and flung herself at him, grabbing his throat and slinging him into the bathtub. He landed with a thud and the gun clattered out of his hand and into the bottom of the tub. She fished it out, yowling when he kicked her in the head, and tossed it into a grimy corner. When she turned back to him, he had his arms wrapped tightly over his head. She brought the sledgehammer down on him, missing a few swings that bounced off the side of the tub with a clamor.

Back in the bedroom, somebody pounded on the front door and hollered for them to open up. Omen sighed and dragged Brash whimpering out of the tub and out of the bathroom. She shoved him to the carpet and told him to stay put as she pulled her shirt back on. “Coming!” she called toward the door. Whoever was there was fiddling with the lock.

Brash pulled himself toward the door on his stomach and croaked “Help!”

Omen spun around and kicked him in the side. “I told you to stay put,” she growled and dragged him to his feet. Her shirt was still hanging open when she yanked the door open. There stood a man in NCR trousers getting ready to break down her door. A few other people crowded the walkway and looked on anxiously.

The man announced himself as Ranger Andy. “What’s going on in here?” he demanded, eyeing both of them with disdain.

Omen twisted Brash’s arm to make him stand a little taller on his bleeding legs and he keened in pain. She’d made a decent mess of him, one side of his face was bleeding too, but her fury had not quite ebbed.

Every time she tried to bed a man, something went wrong. This fiasco was an insult. “This asshole tried to rob me,” she explained through gritted teeth, “with a gun. I’ve got it under control.”

Ranger Andy looked between the two of them with his lips pressed into a thin line, brow creasing in anger or disapproval. “I can see that. I’ll take it from here.”

Omen frowned. “I said I’ve got it.”

The ranger took Brash’s other arm and pulled him away from her. “I think we’ve all heard enough gunfire and screaming for the night. This isn’t Freeside. Doesn’t mean I’ll let him off easy.” Omen scoffed and leaned against her doorway as the ranger lead the sniveling city slicker away. She caught the eye of a few of the onlookers and they shied back and slunk into their rooms. That was that, then, no more action for the night. She fumed and slammed the door shut when she went back inside.


End file.
